An Hour With Rick
by romeocitychicag
Summary: Rick goes to therapy, broh. Shares some pretty deep stuff. Read to find out what.


An Hour With Rick

Rick reluctantly stepped in the room from the space outside. He didn't know how he convinced himself to do this, but it was happening. He would just have to deal with it.

Rick sauntered to the front desk and leaned his elbow on it when he was greeted by a snow white rabbit alien. "What can I do for you sir?"

Rick sighed and looked away. "Um, do you have a 12:30 appointment?"

She clicked on the keys of her computer as she searched. "Are you Mr. Sanchez?"

"Yeah." Rick breathed.

"The doctor will be with you shortly. Just take a seat and he'll let you know when he's ready."

Rick stiffly turned around and sat in the chair closest to him. Not many other people got an appointment this late, so it was only him in the waiting room, the clacking of the secretary's keyboard his only company.

Rick took the time to observe his enviroment. Right next to him was a small water cooler with a paper cone dispenser next to it and a strange looking plant across from it. Around the room was lined with chairs that had alternating green and brown cusions. The walls held either staff photographs or bizarre paintings of nature scenes.

After a few awkward minutes, the door Rick was facing opened and a yellow alien came out.

Soon after that, the rabbit spoke again. "Richard Sanchez, the doctor is ready for you. Room 120." She, like everyone else in the room, said it in a low voice, as if the air was made of porcelain and would break at the slightest volume change.

Rick rose from his chair and padded into the open door. This hallway was carpeted red, a change from the beige carpeting in the waiting room. Rick strolled through the room numbers, starting at 110 until he found room 120, the name "Dr. Prower" embroidered in gold letters on the nameplate.

Rick stepped into the office through the slightly ajar door and watched the doctor leaf through his file cabinet.

The doctor noticed Rick's presence and looked up. "My next patient, I presume?"

Yeah," Rick confirmed.

"Wonderful. You can sit in any of those chairs over there." The doctor gestured over to two chairs that looked identical to the ones in the waiting room.

Rick swiped one of them and sat down. Dr. Prower finished his business with his files and swiveled in his black office chair to face Rick. "With new patients, I like to start off with introducing ourselves. While my nameplate outside says Dr. Prower, you can call me Michael. Why don't you tell me your first name?"

Rick placed his fingers on the bridge of his nose. It was hard enough being here, let alone having to do this stupid primary school bullshit. "Don't you have it on one of your stupid files?"

"Well, yes," Michael cracked open a manila folder next to his hand and peered down at it. "Richard Sanchez. Do you prefer Richard or Rick?"

"Rick's fine." Rick said. The conversation halted while the scientist looked around at all of the framed degrees on the wall.

Michael noticed this and started up the conversation again. "Can I presume you have some higher education yourself?"

Rick scoffed. "School's stupid. There's no way I would do more willingly."

"Why do you feel that way?"

"It's not a place for smart people. All school does is train you to obey authority figures and conform."

"I see." Dr. Prower fumbled with a pencil on his desk. "Who do you live with?"

"Why does that matter?" Rick asked.

"I have to know you in order to help you."

Rick sighed again. "I live with my daughter's family."

"How is that working out for you?"

Rick finally lifted his head to make eye contact with the doctor's icy blue irises. "It's fine."

"Do you like her family?"

"Her husband's an idiot," Rick said. "Got her knocked up too early, so now they're in a broken marriage. Just delaying the inevitable if you ask me."

"What are they delaying?" Dr. Prower inquired.

"The divorce. Marriage is doomed from the start."

"Why do you think that?"

"Mine was. I'm a genius. If I couldn't make it work, who could?"

Michael adjusted his glasses and leaned back in his seat. "Rick, would you mind telling me about your marriage?"

Rick felt frustrated. Not because he was pissed at the questions (even though he was). He felt frustrated because he wanted to answer them. As if the only humane part of himself left awoke. "We were the classic doe eyed fantasy couple when we first got married. The kind you never thought would go to shit. But it did. Right around when Beth was growing up too. I couldn't take it anymore, so I left."

"Do you know why your marriage went south?"

Rick shrugged his shoulders. "She was a lot like my dad. Tried to control me."

Michael thoughtfully nodded. "How was your relationship with your dad?"

"What did I just say?" Rick sneered. "It was bad."

"Did you do anything together?"

"The cliché father son shit, I guess," Rick began. "But we did watch movies together."

"Was that fun?"

Rick stared past the doctor, looking at a beautiful framed painting of a waterfall. Michael saw Rick's eyes get cloudy.

"There was this one time," Rick gulped. He didn't know why, but he had to say it. He couldn't help himself. "When I was about ten, after we watched a movie, we went back upstairs to go to bed. He put his hand on my waist, but it was dark, so I thought he was guiding me up the stairs."

Rick paused. "I was right, we stopped at my bedroom door. I opened the door and said good night to him. When I walked into my room, he followed me in and shut the door." Rick's voice cracked on the last word.

He cursed himself for letting any wakness show. Sitting here telling a petty sobstory was not how Rick wanted to see himself.

"Then I guess he ditched the stealth, because he pushed me on my bed." Rick put his fist to his mouth, trying to restrain the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. "I-I remember feeling aroused,"

"Feeling aroused is a perfectly natural response to that kind of behavior," Michael explained. "But that doesn't mean you consented to it."

When Rick spoke, his voice was shaky. "He s-slid my pants off, said 'That's how he likes it', and th-then," Rick closed his eyes, the pooled tears finally spilling and cutting down Rick's tired face.

"Is that it?" Michael asked.

"H-He said if I told anyone, he'd t-tear up my social life because I was aroused. He would call me a liar."

"You must have felt really betrayed and hurt when he did that."

Rick wiped the tears off of his face. "He's just another asshole who happens to be genetically related to me."

Michael looked at the silver watch he was wearing. "Closing time is in ten minutes. I'm sorry, but we can discuss this in depth next time."

Rick exhaled a breath he never knew he was holding and stood up to leave. "I just want you to know I think you're very brave for sharing that with me."

Rick rolled his eyes and exited the room. He most likely wouldn't be back.


End file.
